Rhone
by Smiles007
Summary: Sydney runs from SD-6 to a small town in Colorado. SV, PG-13 for language, violence
1. And so it begins

Rhone  
  
Make a clean break. That was her idea of leaving people. No warning, no sad good-byes. No tears. Sydney changed her last name, and had saved enough up to not have to work for awhile. She bought the apartment in Rhone, Colorado and just left. Left all the lies and betrayal behind. Nothing was worth staying there for.  
  
Especially the company who caused her the torture. SD-6. All that was left now was a painfully sprained wrist. Sydney had dealt with her share of pain, so when the doctor ordered her not to use it, even for driving, she ignored him.  
  
Her wrist was throbbing and swelling by the time she got to the driveway of her new home. And she practically cried when she realized it was on the third floor of the building. It was nicer than she expected, though. When the ad said apartment, she had pictured a couple rooms in a crowded building. Instead, she got a whole floor. The top floor, with a small lake directly behind the small yard in the back. The downside to this was there being no elevator, only exterior stairs.  
  
There was no way that she was going to drag her stuff upstairs with one arm, so she dragged herself up to check out the inside of the place. Two rooms, two baths, a small living area, and an open kitchen. She was surprised to find it unpainted and almost empty, with only a bed and a brown leather couch. And even more surprised to find a bag of groceries on the kitchen counter. Expecting whoever put it there to show up soon, she make a pitcher of tea and opened some windows. Then went to explore more.  
  
In the master bedroom, she found a screen door leading out to a large deck. She could already imagine a fiesta theme with multi colored stripes. Lost in the pretty picture, she almost screamed when someone tapped her shoulder. She whirled around, and took a defensive stance when she saw a tall man standing there. And realized the uselessness of it with her wrist.  
  
"Hey," the man said. He wasn't threatening her. "I'm Michael, from the floor below you. Just came to offer my help with moving in."  
  
She signed with relief and stuck out her good hand. "I'm Sydney, and that's nice, but I'll.I'll get it, thanks. Did you want something to drink?"  
  
He blinked at her, then frowned at her other hand. "Umm." His eyes darted up to hers. "Sure."  
  
He followed her to the kitchen. "So, is your apartment the same make as mine?" She flowed easily into conversation, one of the benefits from being stuck in boarding schools all her life. One of the few.  
  
He smiled a wide easy grin that lit his face. "Yup. So is the one on the bottom. Although mine is more. furnished. And you have higher ceilings."  
  
She laughed and handed him a glass. "You just wait. Don't worry, I have ideas, so this place will be beautiful. Soon enough." She laughed "I did expect this place to be a little more than it is, but hey, it's like a clean slate." She took a sip of her drink and looked up at him. Gorgeous green eyes below thick dark blond hair topped that happy smile. From the looks of it, he was good in shape. "So, Michael, what do you do for a living?"  
  
"I'm a musician. I write songs, and play guitar sometimes."  
  
Sydney blinked, surprised. "You must be pretty good."  
  
"How can you tell?" His smile faltered a little. "You're not a reporter, are you?"  
  
She cocked her head to the side and smiled again. "Nope. I can tell, because if you can be in Rhone and still get business, then you must be in demand. What's there for a struggling musician in Colorado?"  
  
He laughed at that. "Sorry, I just got to be.careful, you know?" He looked at her with purposefully sheepish eyes.  
  
Her focus on him sharpened. Perhaps because she did know. Or maybe it was the puppy dog eyes. "Yeah, I guess I do." He looked surprised at that, perhaps about to question her, but a call came from below.  
  
"Sorry, my roommate is moving into the first floor apartment today. I need to help him. But listen, I would like to talk again soon." He looked rather annoyed.  
  
"Sure. My apartment is open at all times. It was nice to meet you." She smiled again.  
  
He walked out, shutting the door behind him.  
  
After a few minutes taken to finish her drink, Sydney went down to her car and grabbed her purse and a binder filled with the decorating ideas. Excited to get started, she neglected to lock her car door. She trudged up the stairs again and mentally planned each room. She would order all new furniture tomorrow.  
  
Sydney found a wooden table and an umbrella with multicolored stripes in an design magazine, and marked the page specially. It would go great for the patio.she would throw little parties out there. A distracted smile lit her face.  
  
It was such a friendly thing. Friendly was something Sydney had never gotten as a child. Memories ran through her, memories of her stern father, Jack, and striving to do better so he would love her more. And then of him sending her to the God forsaken boarding schools. It didn't help that she grew up just to work with him in the world's most stressful job, which eventually led to her sprained wrist.  
  
She eventually roused herself out of her reverie enough to go to grab some stuff from her car, only to find it all neatly stacked outside her door with a note attached. It simply read, "You lied. You're welcome."  
  
Sydney couldn't explain the jump her heart gave, so she just smiled and dragged it in to unpack. The rest of her stuff was being delivered the next day, and what would be ordered might take weeks to arrive.  
  
Insomnia plagued Sydney that night, so she baked cookies, and breads. Sometime after four, she gave up on the idea of sleep and got out some running gear. She jogged to the beat of Aerosmith, and to the painting of sunrise. She got back in time to sign for the rest of her stuff and spent the rest of the day setting it up in the spare bedroom.  
  
Around dusk, Sydney heard a knock at the door. "Open!" she called. It is always polite to greet a caller at the door... Michael and another man popped their heads into the room. "Damn." she muttered as Michael's eyes widened. A full grand piano now took almost all the space of the spare bedroom. What was left was a mini recording studio.  
  
"Dude." The guy muttered. Then turned to her. "Hey. I'm Eric. Call me Eric. or Weiss. That's what Mike calls me. I'm on the first floor, feel free to come and visit."  
  
"Uh. thanks. Same to you." She paid no mind; she was focused on Michael's unreadable expression.  
  
After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, he spoke again. "Well, I'm moving in, I'd better go." Speaking to no one in particular.  
  
Sydney blinked and turned. "Take a plate of cookies!" she yelled out.  
  
A muffled, "Score!" came back.  
  
Michael's mind reeled at the discovery. Was this good or bad? After a few moments of indecision, he decided good, and grinned down at her. Her face relaxed.  
  
"Surprise.sorry about not mentioning this earlier." she said quietly.  
  
He was still grinning as her said, "It is kinda major. But makes sense. You must be a damn good player. You know, if you can be out here in Rhone and still be in demand."  
  
Sydney paused. She smiled up at him. "Why haven't I heard of you before?"  
  
"I'm. I'm." Pause. Blink. That came out of the blue. "I'm called Hayden Marcel." Her eyebrows went up. Okay, so she had heard of him. What a surprise. Another pause. "Whatcha working on?"  
  
She smiled at that. Then gestured at her wrist. "I'll try to play if for you, but I'm not at my prime."  
  
"Do you write the words for your songs?" When she shook her head, he got a devilish look in his eyes.  
  
So Sydney sat, and she played. When she let the final chord fade out and looked at him, his eyes were shut; his face completely sweet. He slowly opened them, not the least bit embarrassed about being caught that way. "Did I say good? I meant heavenly. That was beautiful, Sydney. Really beautiful."  
  
"You want to write words to my song?" She joked.  
  
The devilish look was replaced with a sheepish one. "Actually. I already did. It didn't take long, unlike normal. But my idea for your song is more for you to sing." Michael was talking extremely fast, hoping she wouldn't catch what he was asking.  
  
For a second she didn't. Sydney smiled up at him, then processed his words. "Wait, what?"  
  
He laughed nervously. Then his handsome face turned serious. "Sing for me Syd, sing our song. It doesn't matter what your voice sounds like."  
  
Instantly the shocked expression returned to Sydney's face. 'Lighten the mood!' her panicked mind screamed. "I don't expect you to know this about me, but I don't like to sing. So I just don't."  
  
Michael was shocked at the ache he felt when her smile fell. And surprised as hell when he realized his hand was cupping Sydney's face the instant she stopped talking. His lips hovered just above hers for a moment before dropping one sweet kiss onto her mouth. When he leaned in again, she turned her head so that he brushed a kiss onto her jaw.  
  
He studied her for a second, then opened his mouth, only to be  
  
interrupted by the doorbell.  
  
"Deliveries," Sydney softly murmured. She went to sign for the rest of her belongings. When she rejoined Michael, he had a determined and unfocused look about him.  
  
"There's this place I go, in Montana. I really think it's great for inspiration. I'm leaving in two days." He turned to look at her, smiled, "Come with me."  
  
"Montana." Her mind reeled as he nodded to her. She paused for a second before getting up and rushing out.  
  
"Sydney, where are you going?" He sounded confused.  
  
"Out. somewhere," was her instant tense reply.  
  
She struggled with the doorknob until a strong arm reached around her and opened it She gasped and practically fell out of the apartment. Michael grabbed her around the waist to steady her.  
  
"Get away!" she yelled, turning and tripping. She fell, cutting open her foot.  
  
"Look what you did!" They both said, simultaneously. Sydney looked down, and watched blood ooze out of the gash.  
  
It only took one wave of nausea to knock her out of consciousness.  
  
***  
  
She woke to a warm sensation, in a bright room. Too bright. Damn, who was torturing her this time? Or maybe she was in the hospital again. She mentally went through her entire body, checking for pain. When none made itself apparent, she opened her eyes.  
  
No, not a hospital. An appealing room and a cheery fire.  
  
She instantly panicked and sat up. A blanket fell away from her, revealing her single pair of boxers and a tight tank top. She calmed herself and heard a familiar baritone voice accompanied by an acoustic guitar in the background. Michael.  
  
It all came rushing back pretty quickly.  
  
Strangely, all Sydney could think about was how nice it was of him to take care of her. And how sweet it was of him to put her up in his place. So by the time he popped in to check on her, she was in an extremely good mood, and liked him a lot more.  
  
Michael smiled at her smile. He could tell what was going on in her mind. "Good morning." He could also pretty much tell when her mind was made up on the idea of Montana. He cackled inwardly. "Feeling steadier?"  
  
She blinked drowsily, then turned a deep shade of red and pulled the blanket up. No use, she thought. He changed you out of your clothes. And took care of you.  
  
"Um, yes, thank you. For taking care of me. so what can I do to make it up to you?" Her voice was still deeper with sleep. Oh, crap, I really hope that didn't sound like I thought it sounded like!  
  
Even Michael tensed and reddened at that statement. He cleared his throat. Paused. Raised an eyebrow, making his face adorably evil looking. "Montana? Record our song?"  
  
Relief pumped into Sydney. "I don't know." Michael put on a pitiful face, making her laugh. "Yeah. Okay, sure." She smiled.  
  
"Really? Really, okay then. We leave tomorrow morning. Do you need help packing?" The evil face morphed into an extremely excited one.  
  
"Um, no, I can handle it. But, what should I pack? I've never been to Montana." She said as she made to get up. That didn't last long, as the cut on her foot was unreasonable tender. Sydney limped to the front door.  
  
"I think you have issues with accepting help. As it happens, I am already packed and have the rest of the afternoon to help you. So help you, I will!" Michael's face lit in his happy grin.  
  
Sydney frowned. "I do not have issues with accepting help. And just to prove it to you, will you help me pack?" He laughed and picked her up off of her feet.  
  
"Michael!" she murmured. "I am perfectly capable of walking. Put me down." The fact that she was laughing didn't help with the seriousness of the statement.  
  
"Hey, I thought we were working on your issue . I'm helping you. So shut up!" He deftly made his way up the stairs and opened her apartment. He flopped her onto the bed and grabbed a suitcase from the open closet.  
  
"Now, darling, what shall you wear? After all, Montana is much cooler than Rhone, and you want to be fashionable!" 


	2. On to Montana

In no time at all, Sydney was packed and on a plane. The name on her ticket was Sydney Emily Beck. She had chosen it in remembrance of the woman who had taken over the mother role in her life. Michael's last name turned out to be Viscardi, although he claimed not to be Italian. "French born. American bred." He had claimed with that lopsided grin.  
  
"So, Michael, tell me about this place. And why I had to pack so much stuff." She turned to him after takeoff.  
  
"Okay. First of all, you're coming along on my vacation. We will be there for awhile. And this place is a ranch owned by my. my former employer." Sydney's eyes widened. Those words gave her chills up her spine. And brought up a mind numbing suspicion. "They lent it to me. I go there because it has a nice recording studio. How well do you sing?" He was turning this into an interrogation.  
  
"I have no clue. You had better be grateful, cause I would never do this. I have had no training." She trailed off, thinking of her next question. He opened his mouth to comment, but Sydney cut him off with, "No, it's my turn. But first, you have to be completely honest with me."  
  
Michael's face instantly became tense. He had the feeling he would have a hard time lying to her. But he nodded to her anyway.  
  
"Okay here it goes." she bent towards him and lowered her voice. "Is it your dog that was barking yesterday morning at the ungodly hour of three?"  
  
Michael cracked up, his joyful laugh filling the cabin. Relief pumped into him. "Yeah," he stage whispered. "Donny's mine. Sorry if he woke you up." They spent the rest of the time teasing eachother.  
  
The flight from Colorado to Montana was supposed to be a short one. Unfortunately, a storm had hit Montana, and it took forever to land. By the time they got to the ranch, it was almost ten at night. They arrived at a darkened cabin, lit a fire, and explored. The bottom floor was one big room, with a kitchen, small living area, and a bed in one corner. There was a door, which led to the small studio. A spiral staircase led to a small loft, which held one more bed.  
  
The second they arrived, Sydney was struck with her own stupidity. She was a former spy! She knew better than this! She had left with a strange man, went to a strange place to do something completely out of character.  
  
And she felt fine about it. She felt safe.  
  
'Oh well.' She thought desperately. 'Dad always said follow your instinct.' She was drawn out of her thoughts when he began talking.  
  
"So, what floor do you want? It doesn't matter to me." Michael turned to find her right behind him, her face close to his.  
  
His hands raised to cup her face as she whispered, "Uh, bottom." This time it was Sydney who leaned in and pushed her lips to his. Her mind shut off as she reveled in the simplicity of a kiss. Michael wrapped her arms around him and she pressed her body into his. His muscles tightened as she ran her hands down his back. He kissed his was down to Sydney's neck and she giggled breathlessly.  
  
"Wait." she gasped. "What are we doing?"  
  
Michael pulled back slightly. He made one assessing glance, then grinned devilishly. The look made her want to melt. "Well, we were kissing." he muttered as he pulled her in again. 


	3. Panic

Sydney awoke with a start. The cabin was unfamiliar for a moment, before she remembered. And smiled. The last night she and Michael had made out until almost midnight, when she had kicked him into his own room. That had taken strength; he was such a good kisser.  
  
Sydney smiled and climbed out of bed, stretching. She hummed absentmindedly as she made her way to a small bathroom to brush her teeth.  
  
Wiping her eyes, the tall girl made her way outside, and began to run. It was still early, so she figured she had time. After a few miles, she stretched again and walked into the studio.  
  
Instead of a piano like hers, a small upright stood in a corner. A drum set was stacked in another corner. Various guitars lined the room. A switchboard was off to the side, and a microphone was in the middle.  
  
She eagerly shut the door and sat at the piano. Although she had taken lessons all through junior high and high school, she still wasn't at her best. Sydney had found her talent in writing music, and playing fun and fast pieces.  
  
After playing a few scales, she broke into Linus and Lucy. It was her favorite to play. She slowed down and played her own version of Your Song, her personal favorite ballad. Then she began to play her own pieces.  
  
After a few songs, Sydney heard a sound and whirled around. Standing in the doorway in all his early morning glory was Michael, scratching his head. He gave her a groggy smile and went to sit next to her on the bench.  
  
"So." Sydney said, placing her hands on the keys. "How am I supposed to learn this song?"  
  
He sighed and smiled at her. "Give me fifteen minutes, and I'll sing it for you." With that he got up and left. She heard the shower turn on, and after a few minutes, turn off again.  
  
'Concentrate.' She mentally told herself. 'He expects you to be really good.'  
  
Her train of thought was broken as Michael entered the room. "Okay, down to business. You play the song once through, I'll make a recording of me singing, and you can spend the rest of the day memorizing it." Sydney didn't bother telling him that her mind worked in a way that allowed her to memorize the second she heard it.  
  
So she played. Then he sang, in a tonal if not beautiful voice. The words fit perfectly. They told of a breakup story, of a woman on her own. Michael left soon after to get food, and Sydney got to spend the rest of the day listening to his voice.  
  
The next morning, he woke up before her and had a good breakfast going. "I had no idea you could cook! You really don't seem the type." She laughed in surprise."  
  
"Hey, I told you I was French. My mother made me learn. And my dad. my dad was a really good cook himself. I can make a mean steak," he spoke as he stuffed some cheese in his mouth. Sydney noted the use of past time when talking about his father, but didn't mention it. In no time it was ready, a steaming plate of eggs and bacon and toast. They both wolfed it down, declared it good, and made their way into the studio.  
  
Sydney was nervous. Shaking with it. Michael had noticed this and was currently cracking up over it. He had no idea how crucial this was for her new life.  
  
'Calm down. Breathe. God, take control of yourself! It's only a song.' She took her own advice and relaxed her body. The song could be directly related to a situation with Noah Hicks; Sydney could relate.  
  
"Okay. Now, just pour yourself into the song." Michael chuckled. "And don't worry, you won't completely stink. I promise."  
  
So she sat at the piano, took a deep breath. Sydney played the first few chords and began to sing.  
  
I spent years and all of this time  
  
Thinking I was better off, 'cause you were mine  
  
You always said it was your way or the highway  
  
So I shiftin' my life into drive  
  
I'm getting out, kissin' the past goodbye  
  
Like Toby said "How do you like me now?"  
  
This conversation has run dry  
  
And I keep telling myself  
  
Oooh, oooh, oooh,  
  
There's more to me than you  
  
Oooh, oooh, don't underestimate what I can do  
  
Well, I'm alright, it's okay, I know I'll make it through  
  
'Cause there's more to me than you.  
  
I'm not sayin' I'm battered and bruised  
  
But I might as well be with the words you use  
  
I believe in myself and that makes me stronger  
  
Things change and so have I  
  
I'm gonna make hay while the sun still shines  
  
You can clip my wings, I'm still gonna fly  
  
I'm on my own and I'm on my way  
  
And I keep telling myself  
  
Oooh, oooh, oooh,  
  
There's more to me than you  
  
Oooh, oooh, don't underestimate what I can do  
  
Well, I'm alright, it's okay, I know I'll make it through  
  
'Cause there's more to me than you.  
  
There was always something that meant more to you than me  
  
And I'm just sorry it's taken this for you to see  
  
Oooh, oooh, oooh,  
  
There's more to me than you  
  
Oooh, oooh, don't underestimate what I can do  
  
Well, I'm alright, it's okay, I know I'll make it through  
  
'Cause there's more to me than you.  
  
Michael's mouth had hit the floor by the end of the song. Her voice was haunting, soulful. He had uncovered something powerful.  
  
Something perfect for his job.  
  
"I'm sorry," she spoke whispered. "Um, you did a great job writing it, so if you want a different."  
  
He cut her off with a huge hug and a mind-blowing kiss. He broke it off breathlessly, and grinned at her. "That was. amazing. Amazing. We. we have to get you to record more songs! Your voice is. indescribable. This could really be something!" He pulled her into another kiss, but she pulled away.  
  
"No, this couldn't be something. I'm sorry, but. no. Just no." She gasped, her eyes widened in fear. She pushed herself out of his arms, turned, and ran outside into the snow-covered landscape.  
  
Her stressed mind was panicked. She was supposed to be just as normal as the next girl, not special in any way. Publicity could. would kill her.  
  
She kept running, quickly exiting the ranch and finding a pay phone. A cab picked her up and dropped her off at the airport. She left Montana without looking back. 


	4. Ruin

Back at the ranch, Michael had sat and put his head in his hands. What was wrong with her? Didn't she know she had talent? Being undercover as a manager for the CIA, it was imperative that he would get someone on the map. Sydney would be famous. She was just nervous. He could fix that.  
  
Michael pulled out a cell phone, ordered the single to be released. A music video could be easy; all he had to do was take the footage of the surveillance cameras from the studio when she was singing.  
  
That done, he sat and tried to justify his decisions. Sydney would thank him. She would.  
  
***  
  
Sydney had calmed herself down by the time Michael came back. She was doing a session of yoga when he knocked on her door, her luggage in hand.  
  
"Hey, Michael. How was the rest of your vacation?" She opened the door wider; took her suitcases from him. He breezed right past her, went to the television and turned it on.  
  
"Come see this. It's amazing." She joined him. He glanced at his watch as a music video ended on the screen.  
  
Then, to her complete shock, her face filled the screen. Sydney's song began to play, her voice rising to the melody. The shot changed to one of her sitting at the piano, then to just her hands, flying along the keyboard.  
  
Sydney dropped to the floor, covering her face with her hands, her eyes filling.  
  
Then she jumped up again, anger replaced the feeling of shock.  
  
"You jerk ! Do you have any brains at all? Do you have any idea how much you just ruined my life? I'm as good as dead, you might as well have put the bullet in my head. Monster !" She screamed at him. After a few seconds of silence, she hit him, fist closed, right in the face. Then she ran to grab her money and ran out the door. A loud bang followed her.  
  
Michael followed her. She was standing stock still on the porch, blood gushing out of her leg and a gun pointed at her face. 


	5. Truth set me free

Sydney stared at the man about to kill her, quickly feeling lightheaded at the loss of blood. But she used the last ounce of strength she had to kick high, hitting the man underneath his chin. His head snapped back and he fell away, unconscious.  
  
In no time at all, Michael was the only conscious one left. He was shocked at the scene that had taken place right in front of him. "Weiss!" He yelled. " Get up here ."  
  
Weiss quickly made his way to the third floor. His immediate reaction spelled out the situation pretty easily. "Damn."  
  
Michael's mind was working quickly. Why would the man want to kill her? Why had he ruined her life? He decided to look for clues in her open apartment.  
  
He found his answer a few hours later, when he stumbled upon a picture of Jack Bristow. He was a well-known double for the CIA. And Sydney had a picture of him. That brought up possibilities that Michael had not considered before. Didn't Jack have a daughter? And there was a little resemblance between the two.  
  
'Well ,' he thought. 'There's only one way to find out .'  
  
He picked up her phone and dialed headquarters.  
  
"Devlin here." Came an automatically aggressive voice. Michael winced.  
  
"Agent Vaughn reporting. I need a picture of Agent Bristow's daughter faxed to me. ASAP."  
  
***  
  
The first feeling that came to Sydney was an intense burning in her leg. She felt the dazed feeling that came with pain pills. She saw the bright lights of a hospital room.  
  
No, not a hospital. That same cheery room with the fire burning.  
  
The same feeling overwhelmed her, the feeling of gratitude, and of.  
  
Then the memories swamped her. And anger filled her. She sat up quickly, blinking away dizziness. She was wearing an old T-shirt, one that was not hers, and a pair of underwear. Her leg was bandaged, but blood was seeping through the gauze.  
  
"We have to talk." Michael's voice timidly came from the corner of the room.  
  
She turned towards him. "No, we really don't. I. I have to leave, now. And. I need a phone."  
  
"The irony of this situation is you can't leave. Can't even walk, probably. Getting shot does that to you. It's funny, you use to think you worked for the CIA."  
  
Her gasp stopped him in mid-sentence. "I. how. I left. As soon as I figured it out, I left. How the heck did you know that?"  
  
"I work for the CIA myself. Really. And you're dad does also. I had no idea who you used to be, but there is something you really need to know."  
  
"My. my dad? What? No, he works for an airplane...wait, never mind. I really don't want to know. What do I need to know?"  
  
Michael cleared his throat. "SD-6, as well as the rest of the Alliance, was destroyed about a week ago. Your former boss, Arvin Sloane, escaped. He was the one who sent the assassin. We found Sloane through the assassin, and he is currently in CIA custody."  
  
Shock filled Sydney's body. Her life had just been.fixed. She no longer had to deal with the past. She jumped up giddily, but her injured leg refused her weight and she fell right on top of Michael.  
  
They both tumbled to the floor. On top, Sydney grinned down at him. "Thank you. so much. God, I'm free!" she laughed.  
  
They shared one sweet kiss that went on and on. 


	6. Back to life

'Decisions, decisions ' Sydney thought to herself as she enjoyed her morning run almost a year later. Her mind was bogged down with wonderfully easy decisions that had to be made.  
  
Rhone had turned out to be a nice place to live, but there were things missing.  
  
Sydney missed strange things, things she thought were reasons why she left her life of espionage behind. She missed traveling for missions; missed the feeling of working for the good of her country.  
  
The CIA had offered her a job. Sydney decided to take it, there was nothing keeping her here anymore. Michael, just after starting a awesome relationship with Sydney, had finished his mission and been sent back to Los Angeles, along with Weiss. He called her daily, begging her to come to him, and it was getting harder and harder to find reasons to stay in Rhone. So she decided to leave here.  
  
The main thing on her mind was Michael's recent declaration of his love for her. At the time, it had really freaked her out. and she had practically hung up on him. Thankfully, Sydney had enough sense to say goodbye to the extremely nervous Michael. But after thinking it over for a few days, Sydney had come to a startling realization.  
  
She loved him back. More than she had ever loved anything. She could picture the little house with the white picket fence with him.  
  
It scared Sydney to death.  
  
She chanted it as she ran across the beautiful mountain trail.  
  
I, Sydney Bristow, love Michael Vaughn. I love him. I love him!  
  
***  
  
Sydney got off the plane stiff and tired. The flight from Denver to Los Angeles was a short one, but she had been seated between quarreling kids who kept reaching across her to hit their sibling.  
  
Her father was there, waiting for her and looking very out of place. She walked up to him, gave him an awkward hug, and got into the waiting car.  
  
They drove in silence all the way to a new apartment complex. Jack helped Sydney unload her stuff and then drove her to a warehouse in the middle of nowhere.  
  
Sydney looked at him questioningly. "Uh, Dad. why am I here?"  
  
He cleared his throat. "A certain employee asked to meet you for awhile. the warehouse is completely bug free, so he. they requested it."  
  
Sydney's heart skipped a beat and she practically dove out of the car.  
  
She found, as expected, Michael waiting there for her. They ran at each other, wrapping into a tight embrace. Lips found lips and Sydney mumbled the phrase she had pondered for the last few days.  
  
"I love you, Michael."  
  
He smiled into her mouth and sighed. "Good. I was really hoping. Cause I went and got this ring." Michael pulled it out of his pocket, causing Sydney to gasp.  
  
"So. marry me?" Although his voice was nonchalant, his face showed the evidence of nerves.  
  
"Uh-uh. Nope." Sydney grinned at Michael as the lines showed up on his forehead. "If your gonna ask a girl to marry you, then you have to do it correctly."  
  
His eyes widened and he hit one knee. "Sydney Bristow, I love you, I love you, I love you. Will you marry me? Please?"  
  
She laughed and nodded fiercely. "Yes. Yes, I will." He slipped the ring on her finger and she admired the square cut diamond.  
  
"We're getting married!" she squealed, and Michael laughed with her.  
  
Sydney stared at the document slapped on her new CIA desk. She quickly scanned it, her eyes widening as confusion crossed her face.  
  
"No. Impossible. they can't do that, can they?" Her voice shook.  
  
Michael looked forlorn and very frustrated. "Yeah. They can."  
  
Two weeks to the day before their wedding, and the CIA had showed them a rule. agents working together cannot, under any circumstances, get married during the course of their mission.  
  
And their mission would last another six months.  
  
Tears spilled over onto Sydney's face, and Michael's eyes looked suspiciously moist. "I was really looking forward to this. We had it all planned out, the perfect wedding.you know, sometimes I think the only reason that the agency is here is to ruin our lives."  
  
Michael was silent as he comforted his fiancé. She smiled gratefully as he handed her a tissue. "Ya know what? I don't really care about the damn CIA. Let's get married, and see what they can do about it."  
  
She smiled at his enthusiasm. "They can stop us. Easily. They're probably listening in on our conversation right now."  
  
Weiss popped his head in. "Mike, they need you in debriefing." Michael looked up with venom in his eyes. "Hey, hey. don't kill the messenger!"  
  
Michael sighed, kissed his fiancé soundly, and left her there to ponder their situation.  
  
Sydney smiled at her fate. She had quite possibly found the perfect man for her. She loved how much he seemed to care about the wedding, unlike the average guy. He was just as excited about the planning as she was.  
  
Although, the planning wasn't really what mattered. She didn't care so much about the wedding as she did about finally being married.  
  
An idea so simple, so completely simple began to form in her mind. 


	7. Vegas bound

"Agent Bristow. Agent Bristow. Sydney!" Will came crashing into her office. He bent over, panting. Then he looked up at her and grinned.  
  
"They need you in debrief. Uh, a mission has been requested. for you and Mitch-Agent Vaughn." Will's eye was winking at Sydney so much that it looked like he was twitching.  
  
Sydney grinned and went to hug her friend. "Thanks, Will. I owe you one." She whispered in his ear. He just chuckled at her.  
  
She hurried to debrief, where Kendall and a very angry looking Agent Vaughn were waiting. They were in the middle of an argument when Sydney walked in, and neither bothered to stop.  
  
"You think you can just send us away so we wont get married? You jerk, you have no idea how much this is going to kill her!" Vaughn was red in the face, yelling at the top of his lungs to a very annoyed looking Kendall.  
  
"Agent Vaughn, you have no right to speak to me that way. And I have every right to send you where I please. So, get over it. Stop acting like a lovesick puppy. You'd better start sucking up to me, because I could easily forbid you and Agent Bristow from any sort of relationship!"  
  
Sydney stepped in, standing in front of her fiancé. She turned to face Vaughn, her eyes warning him to keep quiet.  
  
Still facing Michael, she spoke to Kendall. "Where are we going? Make it quick."  
  
Kendall looked smug as he spoke. "Nevada. We're sending you undercover to Las Vegas, to breakup a group involved in theft. This mission will not interfere with your current mission. It will take approximately two weeks. Good luck." He dropped the mission file on the table and left.  
  
Sydney turned around and kissed Michael, much to his suprise. 


	8. Clear

The drive from Los Angeles to Nevada was spent listening to music and chatting easily about nothing at all. They argued about the unfairness of the mission. Michael was surprised to find Sydney for it. She kept saying how grateful she was of the 'system,' and how much she loved working for such a wonderful man.  
  
"Uh. Syd. did they perhaps drug you? Cause why the hell are you for this rendezvous?"  
  
She smiled at him, a great big grin that spread unwillingly to his face. "Because I love you." She simply answered.  
  
He still didn't get it, so Michael dropped the subject, moving on to sports.  
  
They arrived in Los Vegas around eleven and checked in. The only thing Michael liked about the scenario of the mission was that him and Sydney were newlyweds, very rich newlyweds. They checked in, and took the elevator to the penthouse honeymoon suite.  
  
As soon as the door to the room was shut, Vaughn had Sydney up against it, kissing her neck passionately.  
  
"Vaughn." she forced out on a giggle. "Honey, I need to talk to you." Laughing, she shoved him away.  
  
Sydney looked into his eyes, giddy. "Okay, here's the quick rundown. there is no cheating band, we're gonna elope, and we have two weeks off for a real honeymoon."  
  
Michael stared at her for a full minute before reacting. He grinned, laughed, and picked her up off her feet, swinging her around.  
  
"I love this woman!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. "This. genius woman." He whispered this, right before kissing her once again. 


	9. Bridal Preparations

The next night was spent walking the streets, searching for a suitable wedding chapel. Michael's only request was that they not get married by an Elvis impersonator, and the only thing important thing to Sydney was that she get to wear a wedding dress. They passed at least thirty chapels, each crazier than the next. Michael cut Mickey's Matrimonial Quarters, saying it was too Disney. Sydney refused Walter's Wedding World because it advertised divorce settlements as well as weddings.  
  
It was around eight when they found the perfect place. Zamboni's Wedding Bliss. Sydney had laughed out loud at the perfection of the name, and when they toured it, Michael had fallen in love with the hockey memorabilia that decorated the hall.  
  
Sydney left Michael to deal with the reservations while she went out shopping for a dress. She stopped at the first place she saw, a little boutique with a gorgeous dress right in the window. Armed with hairspray and the CIA issued credit card, Sydney cautiously entered the store.  
  
A comely woman with a quiet voice introduced herself as Marion.  
  
"Hello, Marion. I'm Sy. Kate. I fell in love with the dress in the window, and I was hoping to try it on." Sydney felt especially loud with the calm woman in front of her.  
  
"Of course, love. Just let me. run and get it for you. We can make some slight alterations, of course." Marion went to the window to gather the dress.  
  
Sydney, with the help of Marion, slid into the dress. It was simple, a strapless dress with a long skirt adorned with a simple beaded patteren. Putting it on made Sydney feel like a princess. The dress was almost perfect, the only alteration needed was in length because Sydney was so tall.  
  
"When are you getting married?" Marion asked.  
  
"Umm. I meet him in thirty minutes." Sydney smiled at the baffled expression on her new friends face. "What, you don't get a lot of that?"  
  
"Actually, we don't. Most girls married in Vegas don't wear dresses. Thirty minutes?" Marion contemplated this. "You're really lucky I'm good with hair!"  
  
"So," Marion said as she pulled back various pieces of Sydney's hair. "Kate. Why are you eloping with your boyfriend? Why didn't you want a wedding?"  
  
Sydney laughed. "Actually, I've always thought eloping was. romantic. Sweet, in a way. Everyone I know that has the power to stop us is against our relationship. So, voila! An impromptu wedding in Vegas!"  
  
Marion was quiet for a moment, focusing on the task before her. Almost as an afterthought, she spoke distractedly. "What do you plan on doing for witnesses?"  
  
A look of panic crossed Sydney's face. "Wh. witnesses? Um, gee. What do people normally do?"  
  
Marion grinned. "Well, technically, the cleric is supposed be one, and you can provide another. Got any friends here?"  
  
After a pause, Sydney's downcast face brightened. "Actually, yes. Her name is Marion. Interested?"  
  
The blond blushed profusely. "I'd be honored."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Marion entered the chapel first, to make sure Michael had all the details set. Sydney followed, only to be met in the lobby by her now panicked friend.  
  
In her frustratingly quiet, almost unemotional voice, Marion explained to Sydney that Michael had chosen for them to write their own vows. But for Syd, nothing could bring down her day. Especially now that it was almost guaranteed to happen.  
  
"I was an English major in high school. I guess I can make it up on the spot. It shouldn't be so hard, he. inspires me." Marion nodded, relaxed, and headed back toward the chapel only to be pulled back by Sydney. "Ask no question, okay?" Marion nodded. "My name is Sydney, not Kate. You can't tell anyone that we were here. Can I trust you?"  
  
Marion just nodded again, although a bewildered look replaced the relaxed one.  
  
They both walked toward the chapel. 


	10. No one can stop us

Michael had heard all the stories and jokes about how nervous guys were before their wedding. Hell, that was the point of a bachelor party. So, naturally, he expected to feel at least some apprehension about getting married, about changing the rest of his life.  
  
He didn't.  
  
Michael was so in love with Sydney, had been since the moment he heard her sing. He wanted to protect her; he wanted to see her face each morning. Never had he been so sure about someone in his life.  
  
What they had was solid.  
  
"Hey sir. Waiting on someone?" Michael jumped at the sound of his fiancé's voice. Sydney wrapped her arms around him from behind.  
  
"Yeah. She's about your height and absolutely gorgeous. Wearing a wedding dress, hopefully. Seen her?" Michael turned her around in his arms and kissed her with all the emotion he was feeling.  
  
When they separated, Michael was pleased to see Sydney's face flushed. Her voice was breathless as she whispered in his ear. "Yeah, she's the luckiest girl alive."  
  
He grinned at her before gently pushing her back so he could get the full effect of the dress. She looked absolutely stunning.  
  
Marion, true to her word, had worked a miracle on Sydney's hair. It was pulled back loosely with curled wisps framing her face. She was wearing very little makeup, which allowed all her natural beauty to shine through.  
  
Michael felt his heart fall to Sydney's feet willingly.  
  
They both turned to face the minister; a man decked out in goalie gear and wearing (at Michael's insistence) a Kings jersey. He performed his part, and then gave the floor to Michael for his vows.  
  
"I, Michael Vaughn, to take you, Sydney Bristow, to be my wife. I promise to always be there for you. to do the best I can for you. You've haven't become the center of my life. you are my life. I fell in love with you when you sang me that song. and was crushed when I caused you pain. I have never felt this way; I love you more everyday." Michael looked into her eyes intensely; every word spoken struck her heart. He was coming up with this off of the top of his head. "You make me more, you make me whole, and I promise that I will always love you with all that I have in me." With that, Michael turned and nodded to the minister. Marion was crying openly in the background.  
  
Sydney nervously cleared her throat when the minister cued her. She opened her mouth and caused Michael to fall in love all over again.  
  
I do swear that I'll always be there. I'd give anything and everything and I will always care. Through weakness and strength, happiness and sorrow, for better, for worse, I will love you with every beat if my heart.  
  
Then Sydney sang, her voice clear and passionate.  
  
From this moment life has begun  
  
From this moment you are the one  
  
Right beside you is where I belong  
  
From this moment on  
  
From this moment I have been blessed  
  
I live only for your happiness  
  
And for your love I'd give my last breath  
  
From this moment on  
  
I give my hand to you with all my heart  
  
Can't wait to live my life with you can't wait to start  
  
You and I will never be apart  
  
My dreams came true because of you  
  
From this moment as long as I live  
  
I will love you, I promise you this  
  
There is nothing I wouldn't give  
  
From this moment on  
  
You're the reason I believe in love  
  
And you're the answer to my prayers from up above  
  
All we need is just the two of us  
  
My dreams came true because of you  
  
From this moment as long as I live  
  
I will love you, I promise you this  
  
There is nothing I wouldn't give  
  
From this moment  
  
I will love you as long as I live  
  
From this moment on  
  
Tears were running down Sydney's face as she finished her song. Michaels face showed love in its purest form. Sydney got the feeling her face reflected the same.  
  
The minister was staring openly at her.  
  
"Oh. gee, lady, it's you! You sang. that song. whatever happened?"  
  
Michael silenced the man with a look. The goalie quickly pronounced them man and wife, and they shared a loving kiss that heated up to the point of embarrassment for poor Marion. They ended up leaving the chapel with two new Kings jerseys.  
  
With arms wrapped around bodies, the newlyweds strolled down the neon lit avenue towards their hotel room. They were both giddy in the elevator on the way to the room.  
  
Once Michael unlocked the door, he turned to block Sydney, causing her to run right into his chest. He laughed at the baffled expression on her face and picked her up, carrying her over the threshold.  
  
Sydney giggled and snuggled into her husbands arms. It was done.  
  
No one could stop them now. 


End file.
